


Snapshots

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-20 03:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22075195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Possibly, maybe, at some point: a collection of unrelated ficlets.The first one is called: "New York; sidewalk; afternoon".
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Anonymous





	Snapshots

The fact that they've been out running together is going to be enough to raise eyebrows, to coax voices into the open where they can draw conclusions out of imagery and thick, anticipating air. Now they're stood on a sidewalk in the middle of the city, a couple of inches away from each other while New Yorkers angrily shove past them in a try to escape the rain that's only just started to fall down on them.

Sebastian is warm, because they just spent the past hour jogging side by side. His heart’s beating a bit too fast, too, because it always does that when Chris is there with him, no matter the pace they’re moving at. It’s hard to breathe sometimes, even after he’s pushed his body to the limit and come back up for air, because his lungs are in cahoots with his heart and sometimes his throat betrays him, too. It allows breaths to catch within it so that he can stand breathless and blink in awe at a Chris who doesn’t even _know_. Doesn’t even realize how wonderful he is.

Someone crashes into Chris a moment later, and Sebastian thinks it must be Chris’s gravitational pull that is causing the stranger’s feet to slide and turn upon the wet ground. There are frustrated noises and impatience spilling out with the wetness around them, and the person rushes onwards while Chris rocks a little on his feet – tries to find his balance again. He’s further away from Sebastian now, blinking his own awe up at the sky with a small, curious smile on his face as though nothing but the rain can touch him anyway. A childlike fascination that is so beautiful to watch that Sebastian loses another breath, falls a little deeper in love.

“Chris,” Sebastian murmurs. He knows that his own expression is as soft as his voice, that his smile is gentle and private and somehow still loud with affection.

Chris still has his face tilted up towards the sky, eyes closed and water landing softly across his features. He’s stretching his arms out to the sides in response to Sebastian’s murmur, more attentive to that quiet sound than he is of the rest of the world. Another man’s rushing past, giving Chris and his majestic wingspan a wide berth but keeping his eyes on the ground. It’s a rainy New York; no one cares that Chris Evans is stood in the middle of their way, smiling up at the heaven.

“Chris,” Sebastian hums again, because it’s the truest word he knows. The most transparent feeling he’s ever voiced, and all of himself is embedded in that sound, in the implication of love that it carries when he says it, when he inevitably smiles around it.

He can say the name here, on this sidewalk on this afternoon, and he doesn’t have to hold anything back. The only one who’s watching them is the sky, and it’s currently pretending not to, briefly squinting down through the clouds just to make sure that they’re still there, undisturbed by everyone. By everything but the rain. It’s a gift of solitude upon this street – a bite of honesty taken out of a city that is always hungry for some kind of raw, romantic substance.

 _Chris_ , he’s said, and thinks: _you, in relation to me. Us, right here._

There’s no one else, nothing public and calibrated about it, just the chaotic splatter of rain and emotion while Chris tilts his chin down and meets Sebastian’s gaze. He smiles back, soft and bright with wide-eyed excitement as though the weight of his own name on Sebastian’s tongue is palpable to him, too. As though he hasn’t heard it a thousand times before, in closed rooms. As though all he’s ever wanted was to hear it like this, in afternoon air, in-between the honks of impatient cabs and the jitter of frantic city noise.

Sebastian finds himself chuckling at Chris’s expression, feeling like he’s full of elation and too small for his own heart. The sound reaches out, dances its way between raindrops and untucks Chris’s feet from the ground – sets them in motion and reels him in.

Chris doesn’t demand to know what Sebastian’s thinking, but he laughs anyway. His eyelashes are clumping together, long and black, framing his eyes even more beautifully than they usually do, and Sebastian’s not breathing again. The air sticks somewhere near the hollow of his throat and the sound of his happiness turns into a surprised murmur that Chris smiles fondly at while he presses both his palms to Sebastian’s waist.

In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that there’s already bound to be somewhat blurry pictures of them running side by side circulating on the internet, that there’s surely speculation going on and hesitant excitement spreading. He knows that there are curious eyes everywhere, that the sky can’t keep everyone in New York from casting inquisitive looks at the two men clinging to each other in the rain. But they’re close enough to Sebastian’s apartment that the paparazzi aren’t allowed near, and if Sebastian was the kind of man who didn’t follow his heart into risky situations, he wouldn’t be here at all, wouldn’t know love like this.

“Again,” Chris is asking from him, grinning.

Sebastian tilts his head a little, drinks the sight in and lets his heart leap forward again; a deep dive into the most secure thing he knows. He murmurs, “Chris.”

He fits his hand to Chris’s jaw, where Chris’s skin is warm and wet and where his stubble is rough and familiar against the pad of Sebastian’s thumb. He’s laughing again, when Chris finally kisses him. Goes breathless, boneless, _hopeless_ for the millionth time when Chris smiles back against his mouth and digs fingers and a reminder of reality into Sebastian’s flesh. It’s them, together, here.

And the world lets them be.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the mess, I don't quite remember how to write.


End file.
